


The Quiet Closet

by dragonswithjetpacks



Series: Ferelith Moonshade - The Book Keeper [8]
Category: Baldur's Gate, Forgotten Realms
Genre: A Knee in the Right Place, F/M, Foreplay, Just a dash of angst, Lust, Rough Kissing, Secret Relationship, Tension in close spaces, Vaginal Fingering, submissive brat
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-03
Updated: 2021-01-03
Packaged: 2021-03-13 04:54:16
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,893
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28522749
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dragonswithjetpacks/pseuds/dragonswithjetpacks
Summary: Ferelith has doubts about her current relations with Astarion. But he refuses to listen to her unless she abides his rules.
Relationships: Astarion (Baldur's Gate)/Original Female Character(s), Astarion/Female Charname (Baldur's Gate)
Series: Ferelith Moonshade - The Book Keeper [8]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2092497
Comments: 4
Kudos: 47





	The Quiet Closet

**Author's Note:**

> This is the first piece of smut I've ever published.  
> Please leave feedback.  
> I want to get better at this!  
> Update: I can't believe how well this has been received. It really makes me happy you all like it! I'll be working on Part 2 of this today!

Ferelith never had the strength to force a body into a place of her choosing. But Astarion was a more than willing volunteer, believing of course he was being shoved for eventual rewarding purposes. In realizing this was not the case, he still refused that a small chance was better than none. She locked the two of them hastily into a small storage room of the tavern, hoping they were not watched or followed. Looking around, it bore nothing of great value. Two sacks of flour, one crate of potatoes, and a variety of other small containers littered the area and the room was dimly lit by a small window at the top of the furthest wall. The sound of rain pattered softly against it.

"If this is your idea of discretion, I'm afraid I'll have to disagree," he grumbled flatly, eyes still shifting about the room.

"With your subtle bragging, I'm fairly certain the others have a solid of idea despite my request for discretion," she hissed with a daunting scowl. "Whether you agree or not to my standards is the least of my concern. We're in here because I find it quiet."

"Quiet," he laughed, his attention now committed toward her. "An odd request coming from you - if I recall our previous encounter correctly, and I do recall it often. It's even a bit foolish, really."

The condescending tone was enough to rile her insides, but Astarion was not done patronizing his lover. Her chin was grasped firmly between his finger and thumb, which he rubbed across her bottom lip. Ferelith rose her hand quickly to reject his affections. Though not entirely aggressive, he took offense, his eyes widening with despair. Still, the natural hostility that Ferelith carried aroused him to a certain degree.

"I'm not here to seduce you, Astarion."

"No?" he appeared to be genuinely surprised, but Ferelith knew it was a ruse. "In a small room? With complete privacy? You mean you don't want..."

The trailing of his voice allowed him to step closer, peeking the curiosity of the sage. Her wits faltered under his gaze but somehow still found confidence in her thoughts. Astarion smirked at his nemesis, the stubborn will that existed within her. Always fighting, always biting back, even when it was not needed. Ferelith shuffled backward feeling the abrupt stop the wall put to her steps. His stride was slow, but he stopped, recognizing a cornered attempt was a poor one. He halted his advancements.

"I wanted to discuss what happened," she tilted her head with one curious brow.

"What happened?" he questioned, stepping forward once again at the hint of her softened expression.

"The night at the camp," she paused as he became dangerously close. "When we..."

"Go on," he placed a hand on the wall next to her.

"When we met in the forest..."

"What did we do?"

"Stop it," she chided up at him. "You can't just seduce me to avoid a serious conversation."

"Alright," his tone was low, the vibrations from the bass in his voice buzzing in her ear. "Let's make this interesting, shall we?"

He was hovering over her, stalling to entice the feeling of anticipation in order to get a reaction. Ferelith was not a patient woman. The more aggravated she became, the more hostile she was. With lips in a straight line, her eyes were sent rolling into the back of her head. She closed them and exhaled slowly from her nose. This was the sound of resentful compliance. She would never intentionally admit it aloud, but Ferelith was fond of games and riddles. Unfortunately, she had mentioned it to Astarion on one occasion. And it appeared he had not forgotten. He lowered his head to the nape of her neck, his lips grazing her skin. She accepted him with her hands smoothing the shirt over his chest, enjoying the tickling sensation of the air from his lungs.

"You may have my attention for this discussion of yours," he said speaking softly against her neck. "And if I am able to comprehend the meaning of it before I am finished, then you can have the rest of the day to yourself."

There was a long pause where she listened to the sound of his breath while awaiting further instructions.

"If you don't, then I will have you. And you can try again another time."

Ferelith's hands tightened, pushing up while clenching his shirt to draw his eyes down to her.

"This defeats the purpose of what I wanted to discuss," she looked up at him with a menacing stare.

"But you're agreeing, nonetheless."

"I suppose I am."

"Then you better start talking."

As the words made their exit, he reached up with one swift movement, grasping the wrists of both her hands. With them pinned above her head and face full of shock, he felt his need to taunt her satiated. It was when her face dropped to glower at him he found the fuel to press on. Ferelith was never a disappointment. Even as he leaned forward, granting her the warmth of his lips to her skin, he could feel her fighting the enjoyment of it. There was an initial small sigh of satisfaction that escaped through her slightly parted mouth. But it was cut short by the inhale of a breath before speaking. She was humoring him, but not yet broken.

"I wanted to clarify that it wasn't a mistake," she said softly.

"I was under the impression neither one of us thought it was," he spoke against her, gripping her wrists tighter with irritation from her statement all while knowing she said it from spite.

"The natural curiosity we both felt has been satisfied," she craned her neck upward.

"You can't just admit you wanted me. You've always wanted me."

"What I wanted was to stop being so drawn to you. And to stop questioning why."

"Remind me how that went, again?"

"It drove me insane," she smiled, feeling one of his sharp teeth graze her.

Her back arched, the tinge of pain combined with the sweet wetness of his tongue sending delightful shivers down her spine. Astarion leaned heavily over, placing his knee directly beneath her while she was lifted. Ferelith took it generously as she lowered herself down upon it, instinctively squeezing her thighs over it and swaying her hips forward.

"I was puzzled by your advancements before. But I can no longer allow you to distract me," she clenched her fists, unable to move them. "I have.... a responsibility... I have... boundaries..."

The feeling of his hand sliding down her waste slowed her speech. It traveled along the curve of her stomach, down the slope of her naval, and into the band of her breeches, the tips of his fingers just barely touching the bare skin beneath.

"I can't..."

She could feel their length stretch across her like a dark cloud rolling over an open plain. The tension in her wrists told him she was anxious. He drew up on them further up the wall, pulling her away from his knee. The tips of her toes pressed tightly against the floor to keep her balanced. And when she became dead weight to plant them, she still felt as if she were hanging there by his hand. The top of his knee just barely grazed her between the thighs. And his palm was still planted firmly on her stomach. Teasing her was a great risk. But Astarion had a philosophy on such things - great risks have greater reward. Making her wait longer would mean she would eventually give in to him. A slow stretch forward and his fingers were just long enough to reach her. She endured each finger tip tap teasingly against her like an impatient hand on a desk.

"I can't let my guard down," her voice was rigid.

"Then don't," he replied into her ear.

"The others can't know the extent of ... this."

Her eyes had struggled to remain open. And for a moment, she thought she was able to keep them wide enough to see the ceiling above her. Her assumption was wrong. For her to compare it to the calm before a storm would be a cliche, yet accurate description. Though she hated using common expressions, she was aware the pause made her want him even more. It made her want him to the point she gave in to the irritation growing inside, the same that he had planted. She was tired of being toyed with. Of Astarion never listening to her. Of his teasing. Of his disregard. Then the thunder rolled and the lightning cracked as a finger slipped down, stroking the inside of where her desires lay. A startled moan escaped from her mouth, but he was quick to quiet it was a soft kiss.

"I thought you wanted to keep this quiet," he said, the tip of nose brushing against hers.

"You," she growled. "You make me _weak_."

"You like it," he whispered teasingly, his finger massaging her below.

"I _hate_ it. I despise it. I despise you."

Asatrion laughed, slipping a second finger over her. She attempted to sink down again to feel his knee, but found his grasp on her wrists were far too tight. She looked up at them helpless, leaving her neck open for his taking. He caressed over it, licking it to taste her flesh and biting slightly over her throat, thoughts tempting his darker nature. But he had sworn it wouldn't happen again. No matter how much he wanted her, no matter the circumstances, he would only take what she gave. Ferelith may have enjoyed losing control in that moment, but that didn't change her need to command other things. It seemed a bit odd to his taste, but all the same fascinating. And he wanted to explore it further.

"Tell me more," he demanded. "Tell me how much you hate me."

She dropped when he loosened his grips, her back relaxing down the wall. With a gentle nudge, his knee rose up to meet her and he felt her hips sway against him. He moved his fingers in motion, straightening them as she came in like a rolling tide.

"I hate how charming I find you," her eyes closed and her voice sound as if she were in a trance. "I hate that you make me laugh."

She inhaled quickly as he pressed harder into her core, her head hitting the wall as she reared back. He felt her body tighten and urged her forward with his knee.

"Go on," he said, baring witness to the moments of joy on her face.

"I hate the sound of your voice," she lowered her brow with concentration. "I hate how attracted I am to you."

The heat from her body was making him crave her, now, and he could feel himself growing excited at the quickness of her breath. Her spite made it all the better. The more anger she released, the stronger her movements became, and the longer his strokes became. It became difficult to hold onto her and her hands slipped through his grasp as he tried to ground himself, his hand slamming onto the wall.

"I hate this constant desire I have for you..."

Her hands dug into his hair, feeling the back of his skull. The sensation of her nails scratching against his scalp brought him closer. His hand skipped up the wall as he faltered for a moment, his face buried in her hair. The fragrance she gave was enticing, as it always was.

"... this desire to feel you. Next to me. Against me. Inside me..."

Slowly, her hands slid down to his shoulders. One remained, gripping tightly. While the other slithered up his neck, her fingers finding their grasp on either side of his face. He did not fight her pull to bring him to her gaze.

"Still... If I believe for one second you'll betray me..." she said through heavy pants, "I'll kill you."

He stopped for a moment to look her sternly in the eyes. Everything else was in a state of pure bliss: chest heaving, neck vulnerable, lips parted. But even through that, she was able to depict how serious her statement was in just the eyes alone. It was a marvelous gift she had, being able to announce her meaning through the looks she bestowed. He cherished it as he did her honesty.

"I hope it never comes to that," he replied.

"You hope?" her brow collapsed.

"If I can help it," he paused, slowly starting the motion again. "I'd much rather be traveling with you. Getting into trouble like this. It's by far the best choice I've ever made, my love."

"Astarion, you bas-"

There was no time to finish as he covered her mouth with his, cutting her words with a kiss. His hand slipped further, bringing his fingers down inside her. Ferelith's hand lurched from his face, catching him at the throat with his chin in the cusp of her hand. She moaned into his mouth and tightened her grip. He dare not tear away, now, for the others would surely hear her cries of pleasure. She thrust her body forward, moving when his fingers curled and beckoned for her. He kissed her harder, his mouth opening around hers and dipping his tongue inside. She met it with her own, closing down onto his bottom lip and biting hard. This made him create a deep sound she had never heard before. Something between a growl and a exhale of satisfaction. He threw himself forward and felt his hand digging into the wall above her. Her body shook and she could feel the sensation building below. With her thumb on one side of his jaw and her middle finger on the other, she pulled him away.

"I believe I've won," she said on his lips.

"Should I stop?" he asked, his fingers still pumping into her.

"No," she struggled to catch her breath.

"Then let me give you a reward."

At this, he lowered himself, now hunched over with his entire hand underneath her. She felt the full length of his fingers inside her, making her gasp. He kissed her again to keep her quiet, but the grasping at his shoulders told him she was going to have a difficult time. He lowered his hand from the wall, clutching her backside to keep her steady as he thrust his fingers upward. Ferelith still found herself swaying, though she felt the movements were under his control. Each flex he made, she sent her hips forward. And as her body grew weak, he began to push and pull with his hand squeezing and pulling at her from behind. The swelling of her ecstasy was near and he could feel it as she tightened around him. He groaned, lifting and throwing her into the wall with the compulsion to be inside her. The sudden collapse made them separate, and in that moment, she felt a bursting from inside. An abrupt, but sweet, cry sounded from the storage closet.

Astarion, unable to determine if this outburst was something to be proud of, continued to to move his hand against her as she melted into him. Her head leaned forward into his chest, her arms clutching him for stability. With his hand still beneath her breeches, he could feel her pulsing into his palm with shaking knee. Finally, he removed himself, his fingers wet with her proof of pleasure. As she looked up, propping her back against the wall with steady pants, she watched him lick each finger delicately.

"As I suspected," he said with a villainous grin. "Absolutely delicious."

Ferelith closed her eyes and allowed herself to chuckle, if only a small amount.

"I look forward to the full coarse."

The thought of Astarion's face between her thighs sent another chill down through to her core, ceasing her ability to tie the string on the front of her breeches.

"Would it be available... tonight?"

She looked up in surprise. Most of Astarion's advancements had felt half hazardous. As if he only meant them if they were a benefit somehow. This question, however, felt sincere. He tilted his head, eager for an answer.

"No," she stepped forward. "I'm afraid it won't."

His face dropped in disappointment, despite the mischievous look Ferelith had given him. He should have known better. Because the moment she grew close, she reached out, grabbing him where he was distinctly showing his longing to be inside her again. She gave it a firm grasp, feeling him throbbing beneath the leather.

"I'll be having a taste of what you have to offer... tonight. If that's alright?"

"Wh- I uh..." her forwardness caught him off guard, but another slight squeeze brought him back. "Yes. My goods are _very_ open for tasting, my darling."

"Good," her eyes looked him up and down. "Then I'll see you when the moon is high."

Astarion let out a deep breath when she left the closet. But he felt he needed another. He looked down, seeing himself rather proud and attentive. Ferelith's touch had not helped matters. But he would see that would be taken care of later. After all, he wanted to give her whatever she wanted to take. It was only fair...

**Author's Note:**

> Part 2, To Feel Wanted, is up!


End file.
